


This Is The Way

by RobinMistySaddle



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Mentioned Grogu | Baby Yoda, Post-Season/Series 02, The Silver Gear Knob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinMistySaddle/pseuds/RobinMistySaddle
Summary: After the kid's gone, what's left for the Mandalorian?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	This Is The Way

He didn’t expect to end up back on Tatooine, but here he was. He kept hitching rides, from one ship to another, random passages, ever since he left Moff Gideon’s light cruiser. Before he knew it he was back on this hell hole of a desert planet. He hadn’t been interested in Bo-Katan’s “quest” of reclaiming Mandalore; he had done what she had asked....mostly. He still didn’t care about the darksaber that was clipped to his waist. He tried to give it to her, but her and her fanatical beliefs...he shook his head. She would say the same about him refusing to take off his helmet. Only he had. And she saw that he had.

He sat in an alcove in a cantina in Mos Eisley, a wretched hive of scum and villany, the sort of place that Boba Fett would visit. But with nothing else to do, he sat there waiting for a job. He didn’t expect one to fall into his lap. Greef wouldn't be getting him one any time soon but maybe Cara would have some sort of work for him. Burying himself in a job might be for the best.

He didn’t want a job. Not really. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. He just sat in the alcove, a glass of blue milk on the table undrunk. 

Also on the table was a silver ball. He couldn’t stop looking at it. It was all that was left of the _Razor Crest_ after Moff Gideon had destroyed it. The kid hadn’t stop obsessing over it and taking it when he wasn't looking. He couldn't count the number of times he had to take it back from him and he had just happened to put it in his pouch the last time. The rest of his ship had been pulverized with only the beskar spear surviving the ion cannon’s blast.

“If you’re not drinking, you gotta leave,” the Twi’lek waitress informed him. 

He turned and looked at her in her scanty clothing before fishing out a peggat from a pouch and deliberately putting it on the table in front of her. “This should cover it,” he said flatly. The waitress reached out and took it, examining it briefly. “Now, don’t disturb me.” She nodded and left. She’d probably be back in half an hour.

He picked up the silver ball and rolled it around in his palm before slowly closing his fingers around it, making it disappear. The kid was better where he was. That’s what he kept telling himself. He was with his own kind. Tagging along with a mercenary was no life for a kid. It wasn’t responsible for him to have the kid with him, yet...

He opened his hand and rolled the ball around again. The kid. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Was he ok? Who was that Jedi that took him? Was he ok? Where was he? Was he ok? The kid wanted to go with the Jedi...maybe. He couldn't tell. He never could. But there seemed to be a bond, and the kid left him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling. How could this kid, even if he was 50 years old, how could he mean so much? He spent a year protecting him, cleaning up after him, to get him to his own kind...and now there was so much emptiness. He’d never felt anything like this before. It had always been just him, but now...

He quickly clenched his fist tightly around the metal sphere and slammed it onto the table causing the glass to jump slightly. He glanced around. Nobody noticed. He got up and headed out into the hot Tatooine day.

He knew he could go to Boba’s, who was growing fat and complacent as he sat on Jabba’s throne, not that he was much before then. He could go to Peli’s place, even if she did have all of those droids running around, but at least she would understand him right now. He didn’t want to go anywhere. Eventually, he’d have to do something, maybe get hired onto a crew since a man in beskar was always desirable, especially one with a darksaber hanging at his side. Greef could advance him credits for a new ship to go out on his own. But he didn’t want to be part of a crew. And he didn’t want a ship for his own enterprise. 

He stared up at the twin suns. What he wanted, deep down, he knew he couldn’t have. But even deeper down, knew that he shouldn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please check out my other works.


End file.
